Loki and Laeriel
by Liisi Laukkanen
Summary: A series of one-shots about Loki and Laeriel, my OC. These are written from one word writing prompts that I write fills for daily, and so aren't chronological. Loki/OC
1. Light

Laeriel was always swept away by how innocent Loki looked under the light of day. At night, by candlelight, his face was all angles and there was a certain gleam in his eye, suggesting there was a lot more tucked away beneath whatever words he spoke. Every sentence was an innuendo. Every look a suggestion. He was a seducer. A schemer. Truly the God of mischief. Of course, he was also all of these things by day, but at night it was more plain to see.

In the morning sunlight when he dozed peacefully in their bed, his skin seemed to glow and any sharp angles of the face that may have presented themselves the night before were overshadowed by the deceptively innocent upward tilt of his brows. Yes, when he eyes fluttered open the mischievous gleam she loved so much still presented itself clearly, but instead of exhilarating intimidation, it projected an almost endearing quality - as though promising that whatever mischief he was concocting, she would enjoy it.


	2. Shadows

**A/N: This one-shot is set between The Avengers and Thor: The Dark World.**

Loki's reputation was often the shadow looming over Laeriel. Even now he was imprisoned, she still gained wary looks when she ventured out into the busy streets of Asgard. The way they looked at her! One might think he was walking alongside her, clad in chains. She snorted humorlessly. He may as well have been.

They thought her his accomplice, that much was clear - and those who did not, thought her his victim. Neither depiction of her was accurate or desirable, in Laeriel's opinion. Between the glares and the pitying smiles, she was exasperated. She was no longer just Laeriel. She was _his _wife. The wife of the traitor. She began to realise how Loki had felt for all of those yeas in Thor's shadow, and suddenly his actions seemed that much more understandable. To be defined by another being's reputation truly was a burden.

It wasn't that she didn't want to be hated or pitied - she couldn't care less what they thought of her, but she'd rather it was by her own actions.


	3. Truth

**A/N: Set just after the first Thor film. I have a lot of these written in advance - I have around two or three more lined up already, if you'd like me to limit posting them to once a day, let me know, at the moment it's looking like it might be one at morning and one at night unless I stop writing as many.**

"Did you know?"

Laeriel watched Odin's eldest son - in light of recent events, his only son, she supposed - carefully.

"Know what?" her voice was soft and calm, despite her weariness.

Odin's temper was short and if Thor gave him reason to suspect she'd been involved, she'd be imprisoned then and there.

"Do not jest, sister," Thor spoke through gritted teeth.

He had changed during his time in Midgard, that much was certain. The old Thor would've put Mjolnir through her the second he saw her.

"I'm not," she admitted, allowing a hint of frustration to seep into her voice.

Her chest ached and she wanted to be left in peace. Could they not give her that? Apparently not. She took a deep breath before continuing.

"There have been many..._revelations_ as of late, and to give you an answer I must know which you're referring to."

This time she did not try to hide her weariness, and her brother-in-law's gaze softened.

"Did you know of Loki's schemes?"

She sighed.

"I knew he harbored bitterness towards you. That was no secret. I knew he planned to do _something_. But what? I knew not. I assumed he would merely embarrass you during the festivities after your crowning. The full extent of his wrath was revealed to me as it unfolded, so...no. I did not. But I do not hate him for it. He is my husband."

"_Was _your husband."

It was a conscious effort not to flinch at Sif's words, and Thor shot the warrior an unamused look.

"We cannot confirm his death," Laeriel murmured, staring at the floor between herself and Thor rather than turning to look at Sif.

"But you do not foresee anything concerning my brother?"

She was touched by Thor's genuine concern for Loki, even after everything.

"When it comes to Loki...My visions...They are never concise. I can never be certain. He is unpredictable by nature and therefore so are they."

It was the truth, and the prince seemed satisfied with that.


	4. Fall

**A/N: Set between Thor and The Avengers.**

As she stared down into the void, legs dangling over the side of the rainbow bridge, Laeriel weakly wondered if Loki was out there looking back at her. More tears slipped down her face. She hoped he was. The memory of the way he had looked at her before he fell was what kept her awake at night. It was why she was sitting where it happened now, rather than lying in their bed. Not that she needed to spend any more time in their bed - she rarely left it during the day as of late. Too many keen eyes. Too many questions.

She wondered what would happen if she pushed herself over the ledge. If she'd find him. If they'd be together again. Even if Loki _had _survived the fall, would she? She was strong, yes, but he was stronger. Her visions of late were filled with him, calling for her. Either her powers had tuned into her wishful thinking and were failing her, or that was the answer - to follow him. She shifted slightly, staring down into the abyss. It seemed to call her. She took a deep breath and went to sidle forward again when a hand clamped down on her shoulder. Her head shot up and through the curtain of dark hair that fell over her eyes, she saw Thor.

"Be careful, sister. You will fall," his voice was soft and weary as he eyed her knowingly.

Realisation of what she'd been about to do washed over her and she froze, allowing Thor to gently pull her to her feet and away from the edge. Her powers must have been failing her. She was a fool.


	5. Future

**A/N: Set pre-Thor and before Loki and Laeriel first met.**

Laeriel gave a huff of annoyance. The heat that day was sweltering, making her wild crimson hair stick to the back of her head and occasionally her forehead. Sweeping it back across her head, for what felt like the hundredth time that day, she muttered a few curse words. Being a fortuneteller and, more importantly, charging people to hear their fortunes, came with expectations. She tried to live up to these expectations as best as she could, and even enjoyed doing to at times - especially when it concerned her wardrobe.

Her garments were all in hues of purple, blue and silver and made of heavy, floating fabrics that seemed to hang off of her. It all added to the theatrical air of mystery that the Asgardians loved to much. Today it was just a hindrance and made her feel like she was suffocating. Hopefully by the end of the day she'd have made enough to invest in some clothes more befitting for hot weather. Perhaps some chiffon...and some ribbons she could use to get her damned hair out of her way. She was brought out of these fanciful thoughts when the light, translucent curtains in the doorway were swept out of the way to reveal her newest customer. Suddenly the heat was less of a problem, as Laeriel's blood froze.

Asgard had two princes, Thor and Loki, just as women tended to have one of two preferences when it came to men - brains or brawn - the princes seemed tailor made to fit these preferences. If a woman was not at least slightly attracted to one prince, she'd certainly be attracted to the other. Prince Loki definitely fit the "brains" category, and that was Laeriel's preference. The shock at seeing him standing in her humble shop, with a distinctly skeptical look on his face, was so great that she almost did not greet him at all.

"Good morning," she dropped into a low curtsy, eyes on the hem of her dress "Does your highness wish to know what fortune has in store for him?"

"Rise," he murmured "And yes...if you can inform me of such things."

"I may be able to," she nodded slowly, and hoping dearly she could.

The prince was widely known for his antics, and she'd hate to upset him by having her powers fail her - or worse, seeing something he deemed unfavourable.

"Please, follow me," she made a gesture and spun, leading him towards the back of the shop where she gave more private, in-depth readings.

Prince Loki was far taller than Laeriel, and so having him walking behind her felt more like he was looming over her, although she doubted she'd feel less intimidated if she were 5'10" rather than 5'4". Once in the back room she closed the wooden door behind them and gestured to the most comfortable seat in the room, the one she usually took. He sat down and adopted a posture which made it look like he was the one who spent most of his time there and not her - as though Laeriel were the guest - his legs spread wide and one elbow leaning on the arm rest, the hand of that arm resting on his chin as he observed her thoughtfully.

She lit a stick of incense to measure the time that was passing before quickly occupying the other chair in the room opposite him, across from a small circular table, covered in a black silk tablecloth which only had a small silver cushion placed on it in the middle.

"How does this work?" he asked simply, tilting his head to the side with a strange cross between amusement on boredom on his features "It's not a scheme to trick people out of their money, is it?"

"No, your highness," she wasn't sure whether to laugh or not, purely because his tone didn't reveal whether he was joking "It is a true power. A gift. My mother was the same, and her mother before me."

"Is that so?" he quirked an eyebrow "How extraordinary. Why would my father not employ your family in the court? Such a gift would no doubt be of use."

"The King gave his eye for wisdom, your highness," Laeriel gave a small, unsure smile "Foresight is useless to a man blessed with that."

"Perhaps."

Worried of boring him too much or wasting his time, she quickly spoke again.

"Focus on whatever question you wish for the answers to, please," she adopted a more business-like posture, straightening her back and clasping her hands together on the surface of the table "And I would ask that you do not break eye contact with me."

Maintaining eye contact with the prince was a struggle. Laeriel disliked eye contact at the best of times, as it made her feel too exposed and if she did not have a good enough grasp on her powers at the time she'd be met with flashes of unwelcome scenarios which, when she was unprepared, would throw her off balance for the rest of the day. With the youngest member of the royal family, however, the biggest challenge was not blushing. His eyes were the most intense she'd ever witnessed. A fire seemed to burn inside them, and what's worse was that he blatantly knew it. Comforting herself with the knowledge that soon her view of his eyes would be replaced by visions...but after a few moments when nothing happened, her brow furrowed.

"Your highness is...focusing on the question?"

"Yes," he spoke slowly, as though her question was absurd.

"Something is wrong," she shook her head "Would...May I ask you to take my hand?"

"Will it help?"

"Sometimes when I fail to see anything from simple eye contact, it helps if I make contact with the other person, yes," she nodded "I know it's rather inappropriate..."

It didn't seem to bother him, however, as he gave a small shrug, eyebrows raised, and stretched his right hand out, placing it palm up on top of the silver cushion on the table. Laeriel tentatively placed her hand in his, trying to ignore the pleasant tingling sensation that spread throughout her skin when it met his. This method did not require eye contact, and so she closed her eyes and concentrated. Brief images would flash before her eyes, unlike the smooth sequences she would usually see. Odin shouting, a downpour of rain in a place that she did not recognise, a flash of blue, herself grinning widely with a hand to her chest before her eyes closed and she drew nearer...Tearing her hand from his grasp, her eyes flew open.

"What's wrong?" the prince was alarmed, there was no questioning that.

Laeriel desperately tried to separate herself from the disturbance she felt in order to give the royal an answer.

"Your future...It's..."

"What about it?" his voice grew more determined now as he stared her down.

"It's not concrete," she breathed, shaking her head "The future of most relies on the actions of others...but not yours."

He relaxed at this, a pleased smirk playing on his lips.

"I control my own future?" he murmured.

"To an extent, yes...and that is why I cannot see it clearly. You have not resolved to do certain things, and so..._things _are not _certain_," she explained weakly, hoping she would not anger him.

"How much do I owe you?" he asked, a full smile on his face now as he stood.

"Free of charge," she breathed, shaking her head - she had exerted herself and now the room was spinning "It would not be fair to be paid if I cannot give what was promised."

"Nonsense," he shook his head before placing ten gold pieces on the table "You gave me exactly what I wanted. Will this cover it?"

She nodded dumbly. Two would have covered it. By the time she came to her senses, he was gone, the only indication that he had been there in the first place was the wide open door. Staring at the table, she tried to make sense of the emerald wedding ring that was on her finger when she looked into Loki's future.


	6. Scar

**A/N: Set during Loki's time in prison.**

Laeriel traced her fingertips over the cut on her cheekbone with a wince. It was healing slowly, and there was nothing she could do about it. If she attempted a spell to mask it, Loki would know. He always detected her illusions from a mile away - he had taught her everything she knew, after all, when it concerned illusions. If she didn't visit him at all it would set off even greater alarm bells in her husband's head. She had no choice but to simply let him see and tell him the truth...but she knew he'd hit the roof, and the last thing she wanted was Loki going mad with rage in his cell. That place was bad enough as it was.

She made her way through the dungeons, head held high and refusing to look at any of the creatures who inhabited it. The first time she'd been down was the worst. The prisoners had leered whilst making vulgar comments and hooting with laughter as she made her way to Loki's cell. He had been furious, and the next time she ventured down to see him, the prisoners were eerily silent. Laeriel never asked him what he'd said or done to shut them up - she wasn't sure she wanted to know. She adored Loki, but she knew that he could be terrifying if he wanted to be. Especially now that he was notorious. People had even begun to be wary of her. They accused her of being blind for not hating Loki for what he'd done. They didn't understand why she didn't leave him the second she found out about his schemes...and truly, she didn't know either. She knew she should hate him for what he'd done, or even disagree with his choices...but she could not bring herself to. The only reaction she ever managed to have towards his plots was understanding. Perhaps she was a fool.

It was a miracle that Odin had even allowed her to visit her husband down there at all, never mind _daily_. Thor had something to do with it, she suspected. She knew her brother-in-law harbored little affection for her husband nowadays, not after the fiasco on Midgard, and so she wasn't sure whether he may have intervened for her sake or just to keep Loki docile. If it was the latter, he should know better. The guards eyed her suspiciously, as they always did, when she passed and soon she stood in front of his cell.

Loki was lying on his bed on his back, eyes closed. If she didn't know better, she'd think he was asleep - but she did know better, and he always knew when she was there. His eyes fluttered open and the corners of his mouth twitched upwards as he took a breath in and turned to her, no doubt about to make a clever comment. Then his eyes fell to the cut on her face and his mouth snapped shut. Laeriel might have found this comical if not for the rage that burned in his eyes.

"What happened to your face?" his tone was quiet and ice cold as he slowly stood.

"The people were disappointed when calling me _traitor's whore_ did not garner a reaction," she had intended to sound nonchalant and amused, but instead only sounded weary and upset "And so they resorted to more extreme means."

"They attacked you," his voice was gaining a growling quality now as he stared at the cut, dumbfounded.

"Not directly, no. They threw rocks," her voice shook now and she was desperately trying to get rid of the lump in her throat as she moved carefully to sit down directly in front of the nearly invisible barrier that separated them "They hate me, Loki."

"Could you go to Odin?"

Her head shot up at this and she stared up at Loki in pure surprise. Was he truly so worried for her safety that he'd have her go to he who he despised most?

"Odin...The king barely tolerates me,"she sniffed, shaking her head "I could...I could go to Thor..."

Loki gave an annoyed shout and an end table flew across the cell and splintered against the wall.

"To rely on that oaf!" he snapped "Whilst I'm stuck in here like a rabid _beast_! Unable to defend my own wife!"

Everything in Laeriel wanted to move forward and rush into his arms. To cling to Loki like a drowning woman and have him comfort her. To comfort him. To stroke his hair and calm him down. To kiss the base of his throat. He was right. Everything was so wrong.

"They dare attack their rightful queen?!" he raged on "When I get out of this prison - and I _will _get out - I'll see them grovel at your feet...and after that...I'll see them dead!"

Laeriel never doubted his words for a second.


	7. Stars

**A/N: Set pre-Thor.**

"You can't see anything?" Loki's voice was right next to her ear as she felt him bring the horse to a stop.

"I haven't been able to see anything since you put this blindfold on me...this morning," she teased, good nature returning now that they had reached their destination "It must be late, we've been riding all day."

Wherever they were it was silent but for the sound of the wind.

"You'll forgive me in a few seconds," he sounded incredibly pleased with himself, moving from behind her to slip from the horse and then lifting her down beside him.

The ground underneath her boots (Loki had insisted that practical clothing was a must, and she was grateful for it now) was gravelly and wet. Her legs were weak and sore after the long ride, but he seemed to anticipate this and kept his arms wrapped around her, moving behind her once more.

"All right, take off the blind fold," he whispered into her ear, she could practically hear his grin.

Laeriel ripped the blindfold off with relish, and then she felt her eyes widen to to the size of the serving dishes they used at the feasts.

"Do you remember when you told me how much you love the stars?"

The sky above them was an almost vibrant purple, with a few patches of blue streaked through, with bright twinkling stars strewn throughout...but that wasn't the best part. The sky was perfectly reflected on the flat stretch of terrain that went on as far as the eye could see. It was as though they were standing in the sky itself, surrounded by stars.

"Where..." she struggled to find the words "Where are we?"

"The realm's largest natural mirror, created when a thin film of water gathers on a vast plain of salt deposits," he slowly unwrapped his arms from around her and turned her round, looking down at her in the starlight with such an adoring look that Laeriel almost had to look away "Do you like it?"

She was used to Loki's intense expressions - he was an intense man in general, and so it was only to be expected. However, the emotions she was used to were lust, determination and a heated, hungry kind of love. This pure adoration? From somebody as proud and cynical as Loki, she could scarcely believe it.

"I can't believe it," she breathed, stepping out of his arms and twirling around, unable to comprehend her surroundings "What's the occasion?"

"Should there be one?" he asked softly.

"Well if there isn't, you're setting the bar _incredibly _high for future daily romantic gestures," she grinned, slowly stepping back towards him.

"Yes, well," he shocked her by pulling her tighter against him, hands plastered to her hips as his lips met hers briefly before he spoke again "How about I spend the rest of our lives outdoing myself?"

He let go of her and took a step back. Following his gaze, she looked down to see the ring in the palm of his hand between them and she felt her heart leap into her throat. He was looking down at her with the most honest look of hopefulness she'd ever seen, and the more time that passed, the more anxiety slowly developed on his face.

"This is...You are...You're proposing?" she breathed, struggling to force the words out.

"I'm trying to, yes, but you're being rather slow on the uptake, my love," he teased softly, but there was a nervous tinge to his voice now "Will you marry me? Be my wife? My queen?"

His tone became urgent towards the end and it snapped her out of her stupor.

"Yes!"

Time seemed to act strangely after that, and Laeriel felt as though she'd lost full control over her own body. The next thing she knew the ring was on her finger and then she was in Loki's embrace, arms wrapped tightly around his neck. She locked her legs around his hips and he placed his hands underneath her thighs so that they were face to face and then their lips met. The kiss was hardly one of their most passionate or heated ones - how could it be when neither of them could stop laughing out of pure joy? They only parted when the muscles in her thighs began to protest at the strain she was putting them under, staying wrapped around her fiancé so. He gently set her down and she stared down at the ring on her finger in awe.

"An emerald?" she questioned, holding it up so that she could see it more clearly in the glow of the stars.

"A green diamond," he corrected, taking her hand and running the pad of his thumb over the gem "Incredibly rare. I had considered white gold for the band, but...I wanted you in my colours. For this, at least."

"Proposed to between the stars," she murmured, resting her forehead on his chest "I never thought I'd be so happy."

"And one day I'm going to make you so much happier..." he sighed wistfully, and Laeriel opted not to hear the ominous tinge his words took.


	8. Unconditional

**A/N: A short one. Thank you very much for the kind review! Enjoy. I'm not sure if I've said this in the past, but let me know if you'd like updates more or less frequently, because I can either post them as I write them or slow them down to one every day or two. It makes no difference to me, but I'd prefer to do what my readers prefer :)**

"I have a condition," Loki spoke, eyeing Thor from the floor of his cell "I want to see Laeriel."

"She visits you every day," Thor spoke through gritted teeth.

"Where we converse. Through. A barrier," Loki hissed "I have not held my wife in a long time."

"You ask for much. How can she even love you still? After all that you've done?" Thor glared at him.

"Our love is unconditional," Loki stated in a matter-of-fact tone.

"I will allow it. For her. Only for a few moments, and then she must flee before we begin and before she can be implicated."

Both of them were surprised at the genuine smile that graced Loki's lips.


	9. Sinner

**A/N: Set pre-Thor.**

Laeriel ran a hand through her hair with a sigh. She was falling for Loki and she knew it. He probably knew it. She'd never even heard of him courting anybody. Ruining women's reputations by bedding them for a night? Yes. Courting? No. So why her?

He was known for his tricks and his deceptive ways, but he hadn't deceived her. At least not that she was aware of. Perhaps the whole courtship was the joke. Laeriel had never been insecure – she knew she could work her appearance to her advantage – but she also knew that there were far more beautiful women in the palace every single day. Better bred women, too. They had thin, lithe figures which contrasted sharply to her wide hips, which she knew they would often give smug glances towards when she walked with the prince. They had long, sleek hair that they could work into elegant updos, and they had a way with words which she knew that Loki, nicknamed 'silvertongue' for good reason, would appreciate. Her hair was unruly on a good day and she stuttered hopelessly at the best of times.

Loki, however...he was pure temptation personified. A smirk from him could hold more meaning than a thousand words. He could bring civilisations to the brink of destruction with a mere suggestion. He couldn't have any use for her at all...so did that mean he truly liked her?

Laeriel found this perplexing, but couldn't ignore the rush of happiness that she felt at the thought.


	10. Tales

**A/N: Set whilst Loki and Laeriel were courting, pre-Thor. Another quick question. Eventually I will run out of ideas for this pairing considering I have easily over a thousand prompts. I doubt I'll run out of ideas for these two any time soon - I am very much just getting started, but for future reference are there any other pairings that you would like to see this kind of story on? I do only write _/OC stories, though :) I also have this kind of story but for a Skyrim, F!DB/Vilkas pairing on my page if anybody is interested. Enjoy.**

"Do you have any siblings?" Loki asked her as they strolled in the palace gardens.

She noticed his distasteful look towards Thor as he asked.

"A brother. An older one," she admitted softly, following his gaze to watch as Thor brawled with a blonde man – Fandral?

"So we are both unlucky, it seems," he muttered, running his thumb over the knuckle of the hand that he held.

"My brother and I get along very well," she spoke almost apologetically "I suppose the two of you should meet...if you would like to."

"And what does he think of his sister's virtue being at risk," he teased, lifting her hand to his lips and pressing them against it.

"Well if you put it like that, I don't think he'd be happy," she laughed "But he does not know. He won't take it well."

She saw a flash of hurt in Loki's eyes, tinged with amusement.

"Although it could be Volstagg and he would be angry. He's rather protective. He didn't even like me having men in my shop without some kind of weapon to defend myself with, if need be."

"He has a point there," Loki murmured lowly, his voice like silk.

"The sword above the desk wasn't decorative," she quipped "As children he used to take me into courtyard every day and make me learn how to fight until he decided I was sufficient at defending myself."

"And are you?" he shot her a smirk.

"Not when it comes to you," she sighed, lifting his own hand to her lips and pressing a slow kiss onto his wrist, feeling a rush of satisfaction when his eyes fluttered shut for a moment.

"Minx," he breathed simply before pulling her in for a real kiss.


	11. Amazing

**A/N: Set after The Avengers. I picture Laeriel as having a slight resemblance to Deborah Ann Woll in terms of facial features. Or Aslaug from Vikings. Both look very different, all depends on how you would like to imagine her! Again, many thanks for the reviews - I'm very relieved that it's easy to follow and that you're enjoying it!**

Unwavering loyalty was something that Loki expected. Something he felt he deserved. This was why he couldn't figure out why he was so touched when Laeriel displayed this quality...and why he felt that the only way he could repay this was to give her his unwavering loyalty in return. A few hundred years ago, if somebody had told him he would be so caught up in a woman who did not greatly benefit his schemes, he would have tracked her down and slit her throat. But now? Now he knew he was past the point of resistance. He knew that the moment he realised he found her attractive.

He adored her, truly. From the ridiculous amounts of trinkets she adorned herself with – worthless ones at that, which put them past being a vain display of mere wealth – to the half asleep smile she used to give him first thing in the morning. He was just astounded that she still adored him.

After his first bid for the throne, after he failed, he was sure she would abandon him like the rest. Shun him for lying. For being a monster. Instead she rubbed the warmth back into his skin after the vibrant blue hue receded, she whispered comforting words into his ear whenever his brow creased...and her scream of terror before he fell...that would haunt him for the rest of his days.

When they brought him back to Asgard in chains, it was then that he was sure she would leave him. Throw the ring at him in the throne room and storm off. A non-violent creature at heart, he was sure she'd never forgive him for the death and destruction he'd caused on Midgard. Instead tears had filled her eyes – tears of relief, not anger – and she had rushed to embrace him, clinging to him as the guards struggled to tear her away and he spat insults at them for handling her so harshly. He let his head loll back against the wall. That had been the last time he'd touched her. She'd cried out that she loved him as he was taken to Odin, and she had ignored the glares and insults she had received for the public proclamation.

Loki was truly amazed by Laeriel. This was why he silently vowed to himself that she would be his queen.


	12. Choice

**A/N: Set during the events of Thor, just after Loki finds out his true heritage. Apologies over the lack of updates for the past couple of days – I've had a few health issues and unfortunately that takes priority. As always, your reviews put a smile on my face, so thank you! Enjoy.**

"What do you mean not now?" her brow furrowed as she tried to hide the hurt she was feeling.

Laeriel stared at Loki who stood in front of her whilst she sat on the foot of the bed, fingertips fiddling with the sheets.

"You've been trying to persuade me for months and now I finally want a child and you say no?"

He wouldn't meet her gaze as he ran a hand through his hair and shook his head.

"Loki...What happened?" she implored, standing and moving closer.

"Nothing...Nothing happened," he murmured "It's just not the right time."

"Not the right time?" she struggled to keep her voice steady "Everything is going according to your plan! You're meticulous in everything! If now wasn't the right time, you wouldn't have brought up the idea of children in the first place."

"Not everything," he breathed.

Laeriel felt her heart sink at the genuine distress in his eyes.

"I can't help you unless you tell me what's happening, my love," she tried to soothe him, moving forward to take his hand but he snatched it away from her and took a few steps backwards, paler than usual.

For the redhead, this was like a slap to the face.

"Is it something I've done?" she asked weakly, wishing he would at least look at her.

"You can't help me at all," Loki's voice shook now "If you knew...If you knew what you chose to marry."

"I married the man I love!" she protested "And the knowledge of my love for you should reassure you that there's nothing you can't tell me! Just as there's nothing I can't tell you! You're the one always saying that our love is unconditional. What do I have to say to prove that to you?"

"Follow me," his tone was reluctant as he made a gesture and then strode from the room, leaving Laeriel to practically jog to keep up with his pace.

"I don't understand," she spoke quietly as Loki sent the guards away and led her towards the Tesseract.

"You will," his jaw was clenched and he still refused to look at her.

When they reached the glowing cube, he paused and then finally looked at her.

"I love you," he admitted softly "Remember that."

She could hear her heartbeat at that point, failing to make any kind of sense of the situation. Then he touched a fingertip to the Tesseract. Immediately his finger gained a blue hue, but at first she assumed that it was simply the glowing blue light reflecting harshly against his pale skin...but then it spread. The deep blue spread up his hand, disappearing underneath his clothing and then resurfaced on his neck, enveloping his face and his eyes turned a brilliant shade of red. Laeriel felt as though her heart had stopped as she stared at her husband, failing to come up with a reasonable explanation as to why her husband looked like a Frost Giant.

"I don't understand," she wrapped her arms around herself as she repeated her words from moments ago.

Was this one of his tricks? Was he going to burst into laughter moments from now and mock her for looking so stupid? No. He was trembling, staring at her with those crimson eyes.

"Odin is not my father. He _found_ me. In Jotunheim. Left to die by Laufey," his eyes were filling with tears by now and Laeriel's chest ached "Loki _Laufeyson_. That's why he never considered me as king. He couldn't have a monster on the throne of Asgard."

"You're not a monster!" the words burst from her mouth before she even knew she was forming them.

She stumbled forward to grab his hand, but once more he leapt back from her.

"Don't," the word was ragged "My skin...It'll..It'll hurt you."

She waited only long enough for his skin to return to normal before practically leaping into his arms. Locking her arms around his neck, she wrapped her legs around his waist so that she could match his height and simply clung. At first he froze, clearly shocked at her reaction, and then slowly his arms came up around her, supporting her weight.

Laeriel buried her face in his neck, ignoring how cold he was.

"You will never be a monster to me," she murmured "I chose to marry you because I love you. Not your heritage. You."

She pretended not to feel the tears that hit her skin.


	13. Sex

**A/N: Updates may be slower than usual in the next couple of weeks – I have mock exams – but I'll do my best to update as much as I can.**

They both knew it was going to happen that night. Laeriel didn't know how. There had been no agreement – at least not a verbal one, but the atmosphere between them had been electrified all day and all evening. Every interaction, every touch, seemed magnified tenfold in her senses. By the time his fingertips skimmed her shoulders as he removed her cloak, Laeriel was positive she was going mad, that she was taking everything too seriously, that their usual interactions were getting to her more than usual...but then she saw the look on Loki's face.

His eyes were practically glowing green in the candlelight, and she couldn't quite comprehend how he managed to look so predatory and yet so adoring at the same time. Briefly, she wondered if she looked the same, but all coherent thought was lost when he cupped her jaw in his hand and brought his lips down on hers. All coherent though was lost until dawn, when she woke up in his arms.


	14. Dreams

**A/N: Set after Loki's fall.**

She couldn't sleep without dreaming of him. Dreams that they were together, dreams of him in pain...dreams of him calling her name.

The dreams of him in pain were the worst. On one occasion she'd woken, screaming so loud that Thor came barrelling into her chambers, half dressed with Mjolnir in hand. The look of sorrow and pity he'd given her when he realised what had happened was almost as bad as how embarrassed and pathetic she felt.


	15. Sloshed

**A/N: Set pre-Thor, before Loki & Laeriel became engaged.**

"A prince could do better."

Laeriel flinched at the statement. Did the wome know she could hear them from where she stood? If they did, they clearly didn't care.

"And he will," another voice snorted "She's a play thing. _Temporary_. He'll soon grow bored of her and be rid of her. She'll return to her sad little life in her sad little shop."

"Hmph. Nobody will give her their business after that," the first voice sounded distinctly more smug now "A ruined woman, after all."

"I don't know. With hips like that she'd have no trouble bearing children. They'd probably just fall right out during birth."

Laeriel bit her lip and looked down into her glass of wine.

"Did you see what she's wearing tonight? We all know she's whoring with the prince, but to dress the part? It's a..."

The voices faded as they walked away and Laeriel turned her head to catch sight of them before they left, for future reference. A brunette and a blonde, both tall and dripping in jewels. The type of women a royal was expected to be with. Lifting her glass to her lips, she took a gulp and sighed, hoping Loki would arrive soon.

When Loki did arrive, he found Laeriel leaning against a pillar on the outskirts of the hall, cheeks flushed and biting her lower lip. He tilted his head. It was never a good thing when she bit her lip. Striding over to her, he kissed her and then pulled away, only enough to murmur.

"What's wrong, my love?"

She glanced away and then blinked slowly, as though considering her words before hugging her arms to herself.

"Everybody...Everybody _hates _me," her voice was slightly slurred as she spoke and Loki frowned.

"Why would you think that?"

"I heard them say it!" her voice threatened to rise to a wail and she raised a hand to her face "They call me...they call me your whore. They say you're going to grow bored of me and...and..."

Loki's chest tightened as he stared down at the woman he loved. He couldn't give the women who had upset her the satisfaction of seeing her upset, and he could feel the not so subtle eyes of everybody in the room on them.

"Come, we'll walk a while in the gardens."

He tried not to visibly seethe as he walked. Truly, a part of him was tempted to pull Laeriel to the centre of the hall and propose to her then and there with the ring he'd been carrying around for weeks now. To show the Asgardian socialites how wrong and foolish they were. How they should respect their future queen...But no. That was a lesson they would learn later, and he would make sure they'd learn it. They had no place in the moment where the very drunk redhead on his arm would agree to marry him, and he didn't want them intruding on it.


	16. Time

**A/N: Pre-Thor. Loki and Laeriel are married by this point.**

"You want children?" Laeriel didn't open her eyes, although Loki shifted slightly so that his chest cushioned her head more adequately.

"In time," he murmured, his voice thick with sleep "Don't you?"

"I've never considered it," she shrugged honestly "We are young. We've all the time in the world."

"An infant – boy or girl, I care not – with your hair and my eyes," his fingertips trailed to her abdomen as he contemplated.

"Offspring take on the hair of the parent with darker hair," she corrected with a sleepy smile "As for eyes...It could be either, I suppose."

"The first will have your hair," he said stubbornly "I know it."

"And your silver tongue, no doubt. I thought it was I with foresight?" Laeriel teased, not wanting to show how much his suggestion had pleased her.

She fell asleep with a smile on her face and the mental image of a little girl who was the spitting image of her father.


	17. Almost

**A/N: Set just after Thor 2.**

Laeriel couldn't move. She didn't even know if she wanted to. The world had gone grey. Loki was dead. When she'd been informed by one of the guards, she'd collapsed in tears then and there, wailing like a banshee to the extent that _Sif _pulled her up and brought her to her chambers, angrily chastising the crowd that had gathered.

"This is not a theatre!" she'd snapped at them, putting her arms around Laeriel's shoulders and hoisting her up.

It had been a week since then and Laeriel hadn't left her chambers – or her bed for that matter. Odin had summoned her a number of times, multiple times each day, but she'd ignored each summons as it came. He could cast her out of the palace if he saw fit. She didn't care. She no longer had any visions to do with Loki. She didn't even dream of him, and everything felt so incredibly lonely. There was no denying his death.

Letting out a fresh wail, she drew the covers up and buried her face in them. She'd almost had it all. Everything had been so close she could almost taste it. If things hadn't gotten so messy, she'd still have her husband. She'd have a child – maybe even more than one. If Loki's plans had worked, she'd be queen.

But none of that mattered now. She had nothing.


	18. Messy

**A/N: A more lighthearted one :) set pre-Thor.**

Laeriel winced as she heard a few muffled bangs and then a curse.

"You know, when you began to move your things into my – now our, I suppose – chambers, I didn't realise it'd be such a dangerous process for me," Loki grumbled, walking into the bedroom and struggling to untangle a scarf from the end of his coat as he did so.

"I am rather messy, aren't I?" she smiled sheepishly, looking up from her assortment of herbs and salves that she was trying to find a corner for.

"_Rather_," he snorted, turning to pull his boots off.

Laeriel stifled a giggle "Did you...Did you happen to fall over in there?"

"I did. Over a stack of your shoes," he grumbled, kicking one boot under the bed and moving onto the next "Why?"

"I don't think that corset is quite your colour," she shrugged casually, gesturing to the deep purple corset that had managed to attach itself and consequently hang from the back of his coat.

He paused and stood straight, straining his neck to see what she was talking about before giving an annoyed huff and manoeuvring his arms so that the coat fell from his shoulders, taking the corset with him.

"Although I wouldn't argue if you continued undressing," she gave a sly smile, allowing one of the sleeves of her dress to 'accidentally' slip from her shoulder.

She'd never seen her husband go from exasperated to pleased in such a short amount of time.


	19. Pretend

**A/N: Post-Thor 2 and after "Almost". I hope I did such a big moment justice. ****If any of you have any prompts you'd like me to fill for this story, feel free to let me know in a review!**

"Laeriel...Sister..."

She ignored Thor's voice, not even bothering to open her eyes. She didn't care how pathetic she probably looked.

"I go to Midgard. You should come with me."

Laeriel rolled over and buried her face into the pillow.

"There is nothing for you here," he pushed and she tensed when she felt his hand on her shoulder "You cannot continue to dwell here amongst his things. It will do you no good."

He knelt at her bedside and she could feel his concerned gaze on her face.

"Laeriel, please, you cannot live like this," he urged "Do you think he would have wanted this for you?"

Slowly she opened her eyes, ignoring how they burned.

"I _can't_," she choked out "I gave up everything for him...and now I don't even have him."

"Come to Midgard," he repeated softly "You'll be welcome with Jane and I."

"No."

They both jumped at the new voice that sounded from the doorway. Odin.

"Father," Thor sighed and Laeriel sat up casting a weary glance towards Odin who stared at her with an unreadable expression "Staying here is killing her."

She refused to bow to him, but she wouldn't push her luck by ignoring him altogether...at least not in front of Thor, who was the only person she truly had left on her side. Slowly she climbed out of the bed and kept her eyes downcast, trying to ignore how much of a struggle it was just to stay upright. Her legs were weak and her head was spinning.

"Loki wreaked havoc on Midgard...and you suggest we send his _wife_ there?" Odin asked coldly, raising an eyebrow "How would they take that, I wonder? She stays here."

She flinched as Odin spoke his name and she knew everybody in the room had noticed it.

"How dare you?" she tilted her head to the side and stared at Odin, a hint of defiance glimmering in her eyes.

"Sister," Thor spoke in warning, reaching for her.

Laeriel staggered out of his reach, ignoring how her knees knocked together as she struggled to stay upright and focused on glaring at the king.

"How dare you speak his name?" she hissed "You allow no memorial, no remembrance, no _acknowledgement_ of his death – even after all of your protestations that he was your son – and then you speak his name so casually? As though he's still locked away in the dungeons to be forgotten about? Loki was right. You're not his father."

"You forget your place," Odin spoke dangerously.

"_I don't care_!" Laeriel's voice rose to a shout, anger smashing through the numbness that had occupied her since she'd locked herself away in her chambers "I owe you _nothing_! What are you going to do, Allfather? Cast me out of the palace? Do it. Throw me into the same cell you kept my husband in and forget about me? Do! It! Have me publicly executed? I would _welcome _it and so would most of Asgard! Do your worst, _my king_, because I care not!"

Her consciousness was failing her and she knew it as she stumbled and Thor moved to hold her up. It was then that Odin's rage seemed to kick in.

"She's delirious. Mad," he spoke coldly.

"She has not slept nor eaten for days, father," Thor argued as she blinked slowly, trying to regain her vision and straighten out her thoughts "Have mercy, for pity's sake."

"If you plan to leave for Midgard, I suggest you go. Now."

Her legs gave way and her eyes burned with tears that began to roll down her cheeks as her chest tightened and she struggled to breathe. The last thing she remembered was struggling to comprehend what Thor was saying before the world went black.

There was a hand in hers. Its thumb was stroking over the back of her hand. The feeling was familiar and made her want to start crying all over again. Slowly, she opened her eyes and almost had a heart attack at what she saw. Loki sat at the bedside, watching her closely with a frown on his features.

"Am I dead?" she rasped, blinking slowly and waiting for him to disappear before her eyes.

"No, my love," he gave a humourless laugh, bringing her hand to his lips.

His lips were warm against her hand. Very solid and very real.

"I've gone mad," she breathed, resting her head back on the pillow and staring at the ceiling "You're dead. I'm insane."

"I'm very much alive, I promise you," his voice was sorrowful now "I'm sorry I had to wait this long to tell you."

She brought a hand to her face as she stifled a wail, sitting up slowly.

"This was another one of your tricks?"

She felt as though she'd been stabbed in the chest as she pulled her hand from his grasp.

"Not a trick," he protested earnestly as she buried her face in her hands and tried to remember how to breathe "A way to get everything we've ever wanted."

"You," she corrected, voice shaking "Everything you've ever wanted."

"For _us_!" his voice had that dangerous edge now – the one it always gained before he lost his temper.

"I've been lying up here for...for...I can't even recall how long, thinking of nothing but you and wondering if I'd see you when I died! Contemplating things I don't even want to admit, and you didn't think perhaps it was time to reveal yourself to me?!" she dragged herself from the bed and stared at him, still trying to comprehend the sight before her.

"I've been-," he paused and closed his eyes, visibly trying to calm his temper "I have been summoning you to the throne room every _day_, my love. You ignored me. I'm in a precarious position, to come to your chambers unnecessarily could be suspicious."

"You...You what?"

He gave her a smirk and suddenly it was no longer Loki smirking at her, but Odin...and then Loki again.

"You...You're Odin?" she breathed "No, no I'm going mad."

"No, my love," he reached for her tentatively and she couldn't help but inch towards his outstretched hand "Only pretending, but everybody believes me to be...and everybody thinks Loki dead. Don't you see? Now I'm king...and you're queen. Not officially, of course, but you may as well be."

"I don't care," she sniffed, shaking her head, walking shakily towards him now.

"You what?" Loki looked at her as though she truly was mad now.

"You're alive," her voice cracked, anger fading into pure relief and joy.

His gaze softened, as though he'd only just remembered how long it had been since they'd been alone together last. The second she was close enough, he pulled her to him and buried his face in her hair, just as Laeriel lost all strength in her legs.


	20. Morning

**A/N: Pre-Thor, Loki and Laeriel are courting. I picture Ragnar as Ragnar from Vikings – just because I adore that show. **

Laeriel groaned and buried her face in the pillow, ignoring the insistent knocks at her door.

"You should get that, my love," Loki murmured into her neck.

"You get it," she mumbled, still half asleep.

"It's your door," he chuckled and she felt him roll over behind her.

"It's your kingdom," she retorted immaturely, pulling the covers up to her face.

"Not yet."

"Well consider this good practise for when it is."

"Answering my lover's door in the early hours of the morning, barely clothed?" he gave her an amused, sleepy half-smile "My father would certainly be impressed."

Laeriel gave a dramatic groan, slipping from the bed and grabbing a purple robe. Once it was tied she padded barefoot over the cold stone floor of her home, towards the door and the insistent knocking. All irritation was replaced with panic when she saw who was at the door.

"Ragnar," she gave a tense smile at her brother, who grinned at her cheekily.

"I woke you?" he asked, tilting his head and eyeing her with his ever calculating gaze "You used to be an early riser."

"I had a busy night," she laughed nervously "There's a new found interest amongst the nobility in having their fortunes read."

"And what do their fortunes hold, I wonder?" he snorted "A few banquets, a new dress or two perhaps."

Her brother had always been critical of the upper classes. Perhaps not so much of the prince who currently lay in her bed, but certainly of Thor. Laeriel wondered if they might bond over that one day...Loki's haughtiness would most likely prevent that, though.

"Am I to stay on your doorstep?" Ragnar joked, pulling her from her thoughts.

"Oh! Sorry," she shook her head, stepping to the side "I'm not fully awake yet."

He chuckled and walked into her home, dropping a pack beside the door.

"There's no room in the inn," he sighed as an explanation "I'm going to check again tonight."

"Don't be a fool," she scolded, following him and not so subtly making sure she'd closed her bedroom door "You know there's always a place for you to sleep here. Save your money."

He hummed and sat down on her couch, leaning back and stared at her as though analysing her.

"You know I hate it when you do that," she sighed, tidying away the wine glasses left on the table and hoping he wouldn't realise that there were two of them.

She noticed his gaze flicker towards them and the slightest twitch of his right eyebrow that followed. He'd noticed. He was suspicious. When she found that there was nothing left to do but sit and face whatever her brother had in store for her, she did so dubiously, sitting opposite him.

"I'm worried," he admitted quietly, eyes never leaving her face.

Her brother had always been able to read her like an open book and Laeriel hated it.

"And why is that?" she sighed, bringing her legs up underneath her.

"I've heard rumours," he shrugged, bringing a hand up to run over his braided hair "Concerning rumours."

"Is that so?" she made a conscious effort to unclench her fist "I thought you didn't concern yourself with gossip."

Ragnar sighed. The sigh he always gave just before he made a point. Putting a finger to his lips, he crossed the room to the front door. He swung it open and then closed it again – loudly – and then stood still. Just as Laeriel opened her mouth to ask what he was doing, her bedroom door swung open.

Loki padded out of her bedroom – half dressed, mercifully.

"Who in Odin's name was that?" he grumbled and then frowned at the horrified look on Laeriel's face "My love?"

"Your majesty," Ragnar spoke, bowing low "I am Ragnar. Laeriel's brother."

Loki spun on heel, only just realising there was a third person in the room...and then realising he'd been tricked. He didn't take too well to this small fact.

"Are you indeed?" he asked coldly, drawing himself up to his full height and managing to look oddly intimidating, despite his lack of shirt and messy hair.

"I am," Ragnar nodded, straightening.

"Ragnar," Laeriel sighed, bringing a hand to the side of her face.

"And what brings you to Asgard?" Loki asked, moving to sit beside Laeriel and deliberately putting an arm around her shoulders in an almost possessive, territorial gesture.

One that Laeriel knew would not go over well with her brother.

"My sister," Ragnar shrugged, eyes flashing dangerously as his gaze flickered between her and Loki "I worry about her."

"Oh? Well, there's no need now," Loki smirked "She's in capable hands."

If Laeriel could've slapped him, she would, but she knew his mood was precarious and his pride had been wounded by the fact that her brother had tricked him with such petty tactics.

"I'm going to make tea," she murmured, moving to stand, only to be stopped when Loki pulled her in for a kiss.

Once they parted, she glared at him and did her best not to storm off to her pantry. Men.


	21. Forgotten

**A/N: Post Avengers, Pre Thor 2.**

Laeriel could hear her heartbeat pounding in her head. They were bringing him back. Loki was coming back to Asgard. She, along with all the other Asgardians, had watched the events unfold on Midgard in horror...unlike the other Asgardians, however, she was more worried about her husband than she was about the Midgardians. The tesseract was having an effect on him, that much was certain...and he was more power hungry than ever...but would he even remember her? It had been over a year, and something had happened to Loki after his fall to change him. Laeriel hoped that change hadn't affected his feelings for her.

Suddenly, there was a bright flash from the centre of the vast courtyard they had all formed a kind of semi-circle around...and there stood two figures. Thor and Loki. A few people glanced towards her to gauge her reaction, but most chose to glower at the 'traitor'. All inhibitions gone, Laeriel began to shove her way towards the front of the crowd, ignoring the snide remarks that followed. Once at the front, she froze, not having planned out her next move. All she knew was that he had to see her...and judging by his apparent resolve to stare straight ahead with a smug smirk, she'd have to take matters into her own hands. Taking in a deep breath, she shouted his name across the courtyard. Laeriel was not sure how she'd intended her voice to come out, but it wasn't how it did – high pitched and strained with emotion.

Suddenly all eyes in the courtyard were on her. Only two sets weren't filled with disdain. Thor's, which held weariness, sorrow and unease over what might happen next...and Loki's. The look Loki gave her was one of pure relief and adoration. That was all she needed. Before she had even fully decided to, Laeriel was sprinting across the courtyard – ducking out of the way of a few guards who made to stop her, and then her arms were wrapped around her husband. The chains on his arms prevented him from wrapping them around her, and so he had to settle for grasping her waist, but his grip was vice-like and he buried his face in her hair as she clung to him and sobbed.


	22. Valentine

**A/N: Post-Avengers, Pre-Thor 2.**

"The Midgardians have their own version of today's festivities."

Laeriel jumped at the sound of her brother-in-law's voice. She turned to the doorway that led inside from the balcony, where Thor stood, an unsure expression on his face. Making a gesture that indicated he was welcome, she turned back around to stare out onto the horizon.

"I never knew you to be so interested in foreign cultures, brother," she murmured, taking a sip of her wine "Something to drink?"

She poured him his own glass of wine at his nod.

"Thank you," he murmured, accepting the glass and taking a sip "I just...I want you to know that I understand how you feel today. To be separated from the one you love whilst everybody else rejoices."

"Your lover is on Midgard, carrying on with her daily life. My husband is in a dungeon, and we shall never be together again without a guard scrutinising our every move."

"And yet you get to see him every day, still. We are both separated from those who we love because of Loki's actions, however," Thor sighed "You cannot deny his crimes, Laeriel."

"Of course I don't," she snorted "They're thrust in my face every time I leave our chambers."

A few moments of silence passed and Laeriel felt guilt spread throughout her chest. Thor had clearly sought her out with the best of intentions. To comfort – and probably for comfort.

"I am sorry," she admitted softly, avoiding his gaze "I don't doubt for a moment that you're responsible for the fact that I can see him every day."

"Nobody can help who they love," Thor sighed, placing a hand on her shoulder "You're a good woman, Laeriel. Blind, perhaps...but good."


	23. Work

**A/N: Pre-Thor.**

"My, my."

Laeriel looked up to see Loki standing in the doorway of her shop.

"My love is not happy," he raised an eyebrow, moving forward, into the room

"I may have to close," she admitted with a sigh, running a hand through her hair "I just don't know if I realistically _can_."

"Well then why consider it?"

With a wave of a hand, Loki closed and locked the front door before moving towards the counter and leaning on it, looking at her curiously.

"Ever since the people caught wind of...of..._us_," she waved a hand between them, shaking her head "Instead of customers, I get nosy gossipers who ask more questions about my fortune than theirs. It's exhausting."

Loki held her gaze for a few more moments before laughing quietly and then sighing.

"I am disappointed," he admitted, moving over towards one of the overstuffed armchairs in the corner and slumping into it.

"Go on," Laeriel sighed, sifting through some receipts and trying not to appear too curious as to what he would say next.

"You're oblivious to the opportunity you hold in your very hands," he sprang up again and swaggered back to the desk, assuming his previous position "You words hold credibility. Not only as a seer, but also as an alchemist. People will automatically trust you in the matters of both the future and their health. You could tell them _anything _and they would eat out of the palm of your hand."

"I think I follow you," putting the receipts down, Laeriel felt a rush of excitement "So...Say one woman is particularly rude to me, I tell her I see great misfortune in her future?"

"And that to avoid such tragedy, she must...I don't know, rub pig dung into her face once a day for a week," he gave a low laugh "Now, do you still wish to close?"

"On the contrary...I think I shall extend the opening hours."


	24. Hidden

**A/N: Post-Avengers. I'm not sure how realistic the idea of the Avengers visiting Asgard is, but I thought it might be interesting for them to meet Laeriel...and I enjoyed writing it, so I may write more encounters between her and the different members of the Avengers in the future.**

"The..._Avengers_ are coming to Asgard," Laeriel announced, taking her usual seat at the ledge beside Loki's cell.

"Oh?" this caught Loki's interest and he moved to sit directly in front of the barrier "Are you to meet them?"

"I know not," she admitted.

The idea of meeting the group who had single handedly managed to defeat her husband _and _an entire army of Chitauri did intrigue Laeriel – and she was curious as to what their futures held, if they'd even let her look – but she didn't know if she'd be welcome in their presence...or if she'd want to be in it, depending on how they'd react to her marital status. From what she'd seen of the man of iron, she'd soon become the victim or many jibes if she wasn't careful.

"But you must," his response surprised her and she stared at him, confused "You are not to hide away as though you have something to be ashamed of."

Loki scoffed then before continuing.

"You are Asgard's rightful queen. True, they don't deserve to be in your presence, but if you do not meet them, it'll be taken as a sign that you do not deserve to meet them and not vice versa."

"I'm not sure it's a good idea," she made a face, fiddling with a lock of her hair "Stark would be _relentless_, no doubt...and the rest? I don't know what they might do, but I doubt any of it would be good. To be seen as provoking them could invoke the wrath of Odin."

"I will not insist you do anything, my love," Loki sighed "The choice is yours, after all..."

Laeriel stood in front of the mirror, clasping the gold belt around her waist carefully. The celebrations to welcome the heroes of Midgard were starting soon, and she had decided to take her rightful place amongst the royal family during the proceedings. To be seen in her husband's colours would cause scandal, she didn't doubt that, so she had switched her usual silver ornaments for gold, but kept her usual purple fabrics instead of green, which she used to opt for during big events before everything had gone wrong. A nod to her husband, indeed, but not a big statement. Taking in a deep breath, she stamped out any nerves that were beginning to grow in the pit of her stomach and left her chambers, knowing if she lingered any longer she wouldn't leave.

Much of the welcoming ceremony passed without issue – Odin thanked and praised the Avengers and after made a speech about unity and heroics...all through which Laeriel tried not to let her boredom show too much on her face, all too aware of the scrutiny she was under by all who knew who she was...which was everybody except for the Midgardians. The smug smirks directed at her whenever Odin mentioned the "evil" in which the heroes faced said it all. Once he was done speaking and dismissed them to shown around Asgard and enjoy what it had to offer, Laeriel did not hesitate in making her way down the steps that led up to the throne, towards Thor where he stood with the five strangers.

"Ah, sister!" Thor seemed surprised at her presence, but was welcoming enough, wrapping an arm around her shoulders "Meet my friends!"

Introductions were quickly made and the group seemed friendly enough so far.

"I didn't know you, uh, had a sister," Banner spoke, although his statement sounded more like a question.

Thor looked at her unsurely, as though asking her whether he should tell them the truth or simply play along and act like they were biological siblings.

"Not in blood – by law," Laeriel made it easy for him, and tried to hide her amusement at the way their faces fell.

"Oh, so, you...you have another brother, right?" it was Barton who spoke now to Thor, whilst Rogers looked as though he thought the hand he had just kissed was poisoned – although perhaps the green and gold ring that glimmered on her hand was incriminating to him in some way - and Romanoff looked ready to attack.

"No," Laeriel gave him a sweet smile "I'm married to Loki."

"Crazy has a _wife_?" Stark asked, staring at her incredulously "What did he do to make that happen?"

"He proposed," she spoke patronisingly, as though speaking to a child, and tried not to be too pleased at the amused expressions on some of the group's faces and the outright snort that Thor gave.

"Why isn't she locked up along with him?" Stark demanded, turning to Thor.

Laeriel noticed a few heads turn as Stark's voice rose in volume. She sighed and sipped at her champagne before cutting through Thor's protestations.

"On what charges?" she quirked an eyebrow.

"_Fraternising_."

"Come on, Tony," Rogers cut in, shooting her a wary look "I'm sure they don't, uh..._fraternise_ any more. Be reasonable."

Thor gave her a look that begged her to just go along with it.

"Of course we do," she gave a laugh, ignoring Thor's deep sigh "He's my husband. I visit him every day."

"He gets _visitation_? Please, tell me that isn't conjugal," Stark groaned, folding his arms "What kind of prison system have you guys got going on here?"

"Why? Do you wish to come with me tomorrow?" her smirk split into a wide grin at the glare Stark fixed her with "I'm sure Loki would welcome a reunion."

"Laeriel!" Thor groaned before addressing the group as a whole "Clearly we have touched upon a sensitive matter that we won't agree upon. Let us avoid it and feast in harmony. Aye?"

"Ever the diplomat, brother," Laeriel nodded slowly "Aye."

The rest of the group murmured in agreement, save Stark.

"...Fine," he gave in when Banner nudged him in the ribs, hard "But keep her away from my food."

"My alchemy ingredients are in my chambers," she shrugged simply, turning to lead the way towards a free table, only to hear Stark's incredulous cry of 'You let her make potions?!'.

Laeriel hid her laughter behind her hand, glad Loki had talked her into meeting them. Their visit would be entertaining, that much was certain.


	25. Banner

**A/N: Set after "Hidden". I'm so glad you found the last part funny – I giggled a few times when I was writing it. As ever, the reviews I receive give me faith in my own writing, so thank you all so much!**

"Why'd you do it?"

Bruce Banner seemed surprised that Laeriel didn't jump in surprise when he spoke from somewhere behind her. Laeriel gave a quiet laugh. The Midgardians were loud beings – even when they tried not to be.

"Do what, Sir Banner?" she asked softly, not turning away from the plant she was harvesting.

"Marry him. Marry Loki."

"Why does any woman marry a man?" she responded simply, dropping a few petals into the basket at her side.

"Money? Power? Arranged? I don't know the way it works up here," he knelt beside her and inspected the plants she was working with.

"Don't touch the thorns," she warned simply "They'll kill you."

It was a lie, but it amused her to see the way he immediately moved back from the plant and stood, watching her work. The fact that he believed her also told her that her words held some credibility with him.

"I married him, Sir Banner, because I love him."

"Then why not talk him out of what he did?"

"Ah, the question on everybody's lips. He loves me, but that does not mean he takes commands from me," she scoffed "He may ask my opinion from time to time, but it does not mean he needs to take heed. It is much the same as when he gives me advice...and who is to say I knew what he would do? In any case, you assume that I did not support his choices."

She could tell she had irritated him at that and felt cautious. Loki's story of his encounter with Banner's _other side _had stuck with her.

"Thor was a very different man when...that little _incident _took place," she explained carefully, remembering how her brother-in-law had almost been an entirely different man "You must understand that. Between the two, Loki was the obvious choice for king. He was overlooked."

"And now?"

"Hm?"

"Between the two, who do you think should be king now?"

"That's not my decision."

"Sounds awfully like a diplomatic way of saying 'not Thor'."

"Indeed?"

"He trusts you, you know."

"I know."

"Don't..." Banner sighed "Don't make him regret it."

She hoped she wouldn't, but Laeriel knew that if helping Loki required her to betray Thor's trust, she'd do so in a heartbeat.


	26. Red

For most of his life, Loki had hated red. It was synonymous with his brother and his shadow, the one Loki found himself stuck in. Red was all things arrogant and obnoxious.

Then he met Laeriel. Formerly the fiery redhead who ran a humble shop in the marketplace, now his wife. After that, red was different. It reminded him of the soft, half asleep smiles she would grace him with as they lay in bed together, of her laughter when one of his tricks went particularly well – and even if it didn't – and of her soft singing when she thought she was alone in their chambers, scrying or mixing herbs.

What truly made Loki fall in love ith the colour red, however, was the fact that it perfectly matched the shade of her cheeks whenever he found the right spot to kiss or nip at.


End file.
